


Never let your fear decide your fate

by lakeoffire



Category: Larry Stylinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Best Friends, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Campfire, Camping, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Hand Jobs, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Real Life, Sleeping Bags, Smut, Sweet, Unrequited Love, tent, this is us
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-11
Updated: 2013-09-11
Packaged: 2017-12-26 07:51:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/963442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lakeoffire/pseuds/lakeoffire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Got inspired by This is Us camping scene where they are all talking about their futures, wives, and kids, and Harry doesn't share one part of that dream. He is busy dreaming about someone else in his future.<br/>Basically when the boys go to bed, Louis and Harry have a private conversation about their futures that go in a different direction than the one around the campfire did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never let your fear decide your fate

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you like this! Title from Kill your Heroes by Awolnation.  
> Enjoy!  
> XX

The space around the campfire got quieter as the other boys talked about their futures and what they wanted. Families, was the main thing, kids, a wife. Harry didn’t mind the idea of kids, he’d actually always wanted a daughter, but the thing that kept him from outwardly voicing what he wanted, was the fact that he didn’t want a wife, he wanted a husband. A blue-eyed, brown-haired, short, big bummed husband.  
He really couldn’t say that, not with Louis talking about settling down with a nice lady, and raising cute little children who he would teach to play footie. For a brief second, Harry could see himself there too, watching fondly while Louis ran around a respectably sized yard teaching a pair of curly-haired blue-eyed children how to pass. ‘  
Harry was off in his own world, where he and Louis were together, perfectly. He almost didn’t notice when Louis nudged his thigh with his slipper covered foot. He mouthed, “You, ok?” at Harry noticing how quiet he had gotten. Harry just nodded, ashamed that he was noticeably bringing Louis down by not participating. Louis smiled at him, a smile Harry was sure Louis only ever used on him, and that brought his spirits up enough to join the new conversation about how much they enjoyed not having service in the desolate forested area.  
When the fire had died low, down to embers and they all slowly quieted as shivers took over, Liam suggested they get to bed since he had an eventful day planned for them in the forest. They all grumbled good naturedly and headed towards the tents. Harry realized he didn’t know where his sleeping bag had ended up. He stopped for a second, looking between the two tents, Niall, Liam, and Zayn all headed to one tent, while Louis was already in the other. He took another second to compose himself, because his thoughts were borderline dangerous.  
“Hazza?” Louis called, poking his out of the tent, “You coming?” And Harry snapped himself out of it, and slid over to the tent.  
Harry crouched down into the tent slipping his shoes off to keep the dirt out and noticed his sleeping bag unrolled with his pillow laying right at the top and Louis’ gear laid out next to his. He looked around and noticed that Louis had fashioned a flashlight to the top of the tent spreading harsh shadows across Louis’ face, and yet he still found him beautiful.  
They both quickly jumped into their own respective bags and Louis reached up and turned off the flash light leaving Harry to his thoughts. He shivered thinking about how much he liked Louis, his smile, the one reserved only for Harry, his laugh, his constant laziness, his raspy voice when he was tired or a little bit drunk, the way he could read Harry, and make him feel like as long as Louis was around there wasn’t any room for frowns.  
“You cold?” Louis whispered. And Harry was cold, not physically because his sleeping bag was plenty warm, but in his heart, yeah he was. He felt like a piece of him was missing, gone. He had given his heart to Louis, without his knowledge. It was hanging in the air between them, unspoken of, and waiting. There was a piece of him that was missing something, only one person could fill, Louis.  
All Harry wanted was to have Louis love him the way that Harry loved Louis, not brotherly, but romantically. But Louis wasn’t gay, if anything he was the polar opposite in the way when that word was tossed around, Louis was the first to deny any gayness surrounding him. Which, yeah, that kind of sounds weird, but Louis never would put someone down for being gay, in fact he almost admired them, but he was not okay with himself being called anything remotely close to ‘twink’.  
Harry remembered when Louis wasn’t always like that, when Louis would joke with him like they were in a relationship, and they’d tweet each other cute things about their shared flat, and then it was like a switch had been turned. Louis had been called privately to a meeting, it was hours long, Harry remembers because he was waiting for Louis to return so they could eat dinner together like they did whenever they were home. Louis had gone straight to bed, not even acknowledging the warm dinner waiting for him on the table.  
After that day, Louis distanced himself, Harry noticed, and soon Louis was moving out of their shared flat, and spending so much time with that Eleanor girl. It was during this time that Harry realized his true feelings, why he had been so content to just be around Louis. Every once in a while, when they were on the road for a long time, or when no one was around, Louis would find Harry, and they would cuddle just like old times.  
“Sort of,” Harry whispered back, his voice uneven.  
“What’s up, Haz?” Harry could hear Louis shuffle in his sleeping bag, adjusting so he could look at Harry in the very, very dark tent, barely illuminated by the high moon. “Is this about what we were talking about around the fire, when you got all quiet?”  
Harry huffs out an exaggerated breath; because Louis can always fucking read him. “Yeah,” It comes out so, so quiet, Harry isn’t sure if Louis heard him or not.  
“What about it, babe?” Louis asks just so casually, like it’s not this huge thing Harry barley has a handle on.  
It’s eating him alive, one solid piece after another, all of Harry being consumed by this overwhelming need to just be with Louis. Just to tell him and not give two shits about the consequences, but it’s so hard. He knows Louis and Eleanor have been having trouble, Louis tells him everything. The only reason he is still in the relationship is Louis doesn’t really know why it’s not working. He tells Harry he just isn’t feeling it anymore, which Harry thinks he could work with.  
“My plans differ for my future.” Harry says coolly.  
“I thought you wanted kids, Hazza?” Louis asks confused. Harry laughs humorlessly because, Louis has not a fucking clue.  
“No Lou, you know I want kids.”  
“Then what, Haz?” Louis prods.  
“The-the wife part is what I have problems with.” Harry holds his breath and watches Louis’ face while it sinks in.  
“What are you saying?” Louis asks cautiously.  
“I’m gay, Louis. Like I like boys, well one.” Harry bursts out, but the last part leaves his lips without warning and so, so quiet, Harry hopes Louis missed that last part. He really sucks at lying, and if Louis asked him to elaborate on the who, Harry couldn’t lie, he has already let so much out already. He is on a roll.  
“One? You dating someone secretly?” Louis is incredulous.  
“No! He doesn’t even know how I feel.” Harry breathes. He is overwhelmed, this is just too much. He is tired of not telling Louis, he is already so close, he doesn’t know if he can continue to evade this.  
“Who is it? How long have you had feelings for this lad without telling him?”  
“Long time, he is in a relationship.” Harry sighs, story of his damn life.  
“Psh, you’re a much better catch than whoever he is dating. Hazza, you are in one of the biggest boybands ever, after all.” Louis tries to be encouraging, but if he only knew. “Who is it?” Louis asks again.  
Harry is weary, Louis is watching him closely. Harry is still internally battling himself. Louis waits patiently. Harry is more nervous than when he goes on stage in front of thousands, more nervous than when he is on live television, he thinks he might vomit.  
But this is Louis, his Louis, well sorta his. They are so close already, Harry doesn’t want to lose this. He would rather have Louis in his life, than not at all. The worst that Louis could do was never talk to him again, the best result would obviously be to grow old with Louis and enjoy the rest of his life with the person he loves most in the world. The latter is enough incentive to just grow a pair and tell Louis how he feels.  
“It’s you, Lou. Always has been.” Harry says this slowly, staring straight into Louis’ eyes.  
“Don’t fuck with me, Harry.” Louis is mad, far angrier than Harry has ever seen. He looks hurt, and Harry has no idea why.  
“What?” Harry is appalled.  
“Who told you? Hmm? I only told Zayn because I trusted him. Fuck, I should have never told anyone!” Louis is almost talking to himself by the end of it.  
“Told Zayn what?” Harry demands.  
“That I fancy you, you fool.”  
Harry is rendered speechless, Louis seems quite genuine. He searches Louis’ features for any form of deception, but he finds none. He has to ask though, “Lou, are you serious?”  
Louis nods his head, “Don’t think I’ve ever been more serious about anything else in my life.”  
Harry reaches out, he has to, and touches Louis’ cheek softly, feeling the stubble below his fingertips and palm. Louis’ breath audibly stops, Harry can just make out the crystal blue in the dark light. Slowly, as if approaching a wounded wild animal, Harry brings his face closer to Louis’.  
“Louis, Lou, can I- I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long, can I? Can I kiss you, please?” Louis can feel Harry’s breath on his lips.  
“Yes, God, please Harry,” Louis is breathless in anticipation, he wants to kiss Harry just as much.  
Just as slowly as before, as if to savor this moment, Harry leans even closer still, until just barley their lips are touching. As if they aren’t even there, until he presses in firmer, suddenly urgent, letting go of the small grip he had on reality. He gets lost in the feel of Louis’ thin, soft, pink lips against his own.  
They fit better than Harry ever dreamed, which he did quite a bit. The kiss was chaste but firm, until Louis bit Harry’s plump bottom lip and Harry gasped into Louis’ mouth. Louis took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, slip his tongue between Harry’s pretty lips.  
Louis brought his hand up to Harry’s curls and tugged ever so slightly, eliciting a groan from the back of Harry’s throat. Harry would be embarrassed, but he was kissing Louis fucking Tomlinson, his best mate, and he really couldn’t bring himself to care too much. He trusted Louis, and he knew Louis kept Harry’s feelings at the forefront of his mind.  
Harry was itching to touch Louis, but he didn’t know what he was allowed in this situation. He kept one hand on Louis’s cheek, lazily running his thumb over his jaw repeatedly, and his other hand curled against his own chest. Louis moved, momentarily disrupting their lip lock, and swung himself over Harry. Both of them still in their respective sleeping bags, so they slipped a little bit, until they fit themselves together like puzzle pieces, Louis bringing a leg between Harry’s.  
Harry feels like he shouldn’t have been so worried to touch, Louis, because Louis clearly has no” problem taking control and getting what he wants, so Harry brings his hands to Louis hips. With the sleeping bags sitting nearly around Louis’s bum, Harry is able to run his palms from the exposed skin of Louis hips, to as much of Louis he can reach under his huge shirt.  
Harry can feel Louis’ tummy jump, when he runs his fingertips, up Louis’ front. Harry is trying to memorize Louis, and this moment, he never wants to forget any detail, like the feel of such soft skin under his fingertips, the wet noises of their mouths meshing together, the firm and welcome weight of Louis on his hips and between his legs, the frantic need Harry feels deep inside that make this feel like he will never have enough of this man with him right now.  
Harry wants more, he always wants more when it comes to Louis, that’s pretty much how they got in this situations. When Harry said he’d been in love with this person for a long time, he meant years, fucking years! After waiting forever, he wants everything that Louis will give him, and more. He pushes his hips up in a feeble attempt to relieve some of the need in his groin. When his hips collide with Louis’ it’s as if he suddenly dropped into the fiery pit of hell. He is on fire, pleasure shoots throughout his body, just from that one taste of a touch, and he chases more.  
Bringing his hips up again, Harry has Louis moaning his name into Harry’s wet lips. Harry smiles and brings their mouths back together, and Louis pushes his hips down this time to grind into Harrys. They are both desperately rutting against one another like horny teenagers, and Harry is close, just from this  
“Lou, can I touch you?” And to let Louis know exactly what he means, he brings his hand down to Louis bulge and gropes, and Louis whines.  
Louis pulls back to look at Harry seriously, and his eyes are dark with arousal, his lips and cheeks flushed and Harry thinks he has never seen Louis so beautiful.  
“Only if I can return the favor,” and to say Harry was a little eager, would be an understatement.  
He quickly shuffled so that he could open his sleeping bag enough to allow Louis more access. Louis reached forward and ran his small hand along the elastic of Harry’s boxers, dipping his hand swiftly and wrapping his hand around Harry before Harry even blinked. One of Harry’s hands that had been on Louis’ hip explores down to Louis’ member.  
They both stroke nearly at the same time, both of them though have a different method, Louis is quick and to the point, flicking his wrist a the head, and Harry is slow, and methodical about the strength of his grasp, the spread of precum to make the drag easier.  
It only takes a few strokes, for them to both cum, they both swear it was their best orgasm, ever. Harry could feel it build from the bottom of his feet to the tips of his ears. They rest against each other in bliss, chests heaving and foreheads touching.  
Harry is the first one to speak, “Lou, would you mind keeping me warm in my sleeping bag?”  
Harry was expecting a cheeky retort, but all Louis does is throw off his own sleeping bag, slip in next to Harry, and zip them in together before turning to Harry with open arms, and whisper, “’Course, Hazza.” Into Harry’s curls.  
Harry curls himself up onto Louis’ chest and smiles into his neck. They fall asleep like that, feeling content, and overwhelmingly happy. Harry thinks that in Louis’ arms, he could do anything. He feels invincible, and much less apprehensive about his future. Sure there are things they have to work out, lots of things. Right now, though, all Harry can think about is how happy he is, and how hard he is willing to fight for this man he so hopelessly loves.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, comments, kudos, and form of feed back is much appreciated.


End file.
